


Wonderland's Chosen

by Marion Holly (christine_canigula3)



Category: Alice In Wonderland - Lewis Carroll, Original Work
Genre: Alice in Wonderland References, F/M, Inspired by Alice in Wonderland, Wonderland
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 17:47:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28585977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/christine_canigula3/pseuds/Marion%20Holly
Summary: Alissa suffers from a strange affliction called "Alice in Wonderland Syndrome," a hallucination that causes her to see herself and the things around her grow and shrink at random. One of the things that she shouldn't be seeing is a rabbit in a waistcoat annoyedly pointing to a pocket watch every time she has an attack, but that doesn't change the fact that he's there. Desperate to find answers for herself and her grandmother, who's insanity seems to have taken a turn for the worse, Alissa jumps down the rabbit hole to Wonderland. Will she be destroyed by the creatures and ever-changing scenery she finds there; or will she find that the madness and chaos call to her in a way she doesn't quite understand.
Collections: Alissa's Wonderland





	Wonderland's Chosen

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! This story is my baby; based off of my own mental illnesses and the dreams I've always had about the beautifully mad world that is Wonderland. Let me know what you think!!

I was young the first time it happened, but I still remember every detail. The way the ceiling seemed to shrink, making the room impossible to stand upright in; the way the walls stretched so far, they seemed to go on forever. And the white rabbit in a waistcoat standing in the shadows, pointing to a pocket watch he held in his hand. 

“Late, I say. Very late, Miss Allie,” he said, frowning at me. 

“Late for what?” I asked. He clucked his tongue in disapproval before retreating into the darkness. 

“Wait!” I yelled. “Late for what?” 

I reached out an arm to grab him but stopped short when I saw my hand start to grow. I gasped, holding both of my arms up to look at them. They started growing at a steady rate, until my fingers became the size of hotdogs, then cucumbers, then as large as an arm itself. They kept growing until they were so heavy that I couldn’t hold them up any longer. I began to cry, bringing my mother into the room. 

“What’s wrong?” she exclaimed. 

I sobbed as my hands kept growing, almost too big for the room, which had now shrunk back to its original size, which was far too small for hands that were now the size of a car. “My hands,” I sobbed. “They won’t stop growing. Please, mom, make them stop.” 

She knelt on the ground and pulled me into her lap. “Your hands aren’t growing. They’re the same size they’ve always been.”

“No, they’re not, can’t you see?”

“Close your eyes, it’s going to be fine.” I squeezed them shut and kept crying as she stroked my hair softly. After a few minutes, my hands started to feel lighter. I opened one eye to glance at them and found them back to their normal size. 

“My hands,” I whispered. “They’re small again.” 

“I told you,” said my mom. “What happened there?”

I told her what I’d seen. The way that the room changed shape and size, and how my hands had looked and felt like they were growing. I didn’t tell her about the rabbit because I figured that she would blame him and make sure that he couldn’t come again. But I needed answers from him, so I kept him a secret.

The next day, I had an appointment with a psychiatrist. 

I hated her. I hated the appointment. I suppose being condescending is bound to happen when you’re dealing with a child who is hallucinating but I still didn’t like it. She told my mom that I had “Alice in Wonderland Syndrome.” Rare, but nothing to worry about. She warned me that I would have more attacks where I would see my body growing and shrinking and possibly see the walls extend. Rabbits in waistcoats weren’t included in the possibilities of what I would see in the attacks, so I left that detail out again. 

Just as the psychiatrist told me, I had more attacks. Each one was worse than the last, always ending with me sobbing in the corner, desperately willing my body to return to its normal size. And every time without fail, the rabbit stood in the shadows, shaking his head in annoyance and showing me the time on his pocket watch before disappearing into the darkness, leaving all my questions for him unanswered.


End file.
